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“Okay,” she accepted. “And I know you have some kind of work with Mr. Babylon. I don’t need to know what that is either. But if you need anything, I’d be happy to help.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“But I like you. And I have a good feeling about you.”

“Because I’m charming?” I joked.

“Maybe it’s a little because’a that, but mostly it’s because you’re the kind of guy that’s always done good by me.”

“What would your boyfriend say if he found out that you were hanging out with me?”

“I don’t know. But it feels like something I should find out.”

We looked at each other for a while there. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. I wasn’t even sure about what was on my own mind.

“So?” she asked.

“So what?”

“What do you need me to do?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, treading water.

“Why not?”

I sighed and then said, “You are what people in my profession call a civilian.”

“Not official?”

“Not experienced. You don’t know the pitfalls to look for, you don’t understand the dangers you’re playin’ with.”

“So you don’t need my help?”

“You look disappointed.”

“I was sure that you asked me out to get me to help you with your investigation.”

“And not because you’re a beautiful girl?”

“I guess I thought that might be number two on your mind.”

I was having way too much fun with that woman in that fancy spot.

I said, “One of the things we do in my line of work is to use what we call the apprehension of passive intelligence.”

“What’s that?”

“Does the hospital keep a digital log of visitors for all the patients?”

“Yes.”

“And can you look at this log without being noticed—or traced?”

“Sure.”

“So you could make me a list of the people who have come to see Mr. Babylon in, let’s say, the last month or so.”

“Absolutely.”